Page 81 of ColdIron
Delia’s circle turned their glares on me. A couple of them flashed smiles that promised nothing pleasant. I shrugged. It didn’t matter that I’d tried to lie low. It made no difference that I’d been passive instead of aggressive. People like Delia, Slade, Kevin, and their kind would always find me. Maybe the demon was right about my power making the lesser ones uneasy, forcing them to lash out at what they feared or couldn’t understand.
“Gather around, cadets,” Instructor Greer called before the situation could escalate.
We formed a half-circle in the yard, facing theobstacle course grid beyond. The instructor paced in front of us, one hand behind her back, the other twirling a wand between her fingers.
“How much do you understand about the magic system and its classifications, Cadet Max?”
“Not enough,” I admitted. “I’ve been reading about supernaturals. In the age of the Rupture, there’s old money versus new money. But I haven’t gotten to the full magical system yet.”
“Oh, the peasant can read.” Delia’s snort was loud enough for the entire yard to hear.
Most miners couldn’t read. My scholar parents had poured everything they had into homeschooling me in the dark between shifts.
“I was never a peasant,” I said, meeting her gaze. “I was a slave miner. Which was worse. You have advantages that most people can’t dream of, so maybe don’t mock the ones who didn’t. Karma’s a bitch, and I wouldn’t wish the life of a slave on any of you.”
The yard went quiet. A few cadets dropped their eyes. Even one of Delia’s friends shifted her weight, uncomfortable.
“All right, let’s move on,” Instructor Greer said, pinning Delia with a look that dared her to derail the class one more time. She turned back to me. “Your analogy of new money and old money is interesting. Elaborate, Cadet Max.”
“That analogy came from my mother,” I said, pushing down a sudden grief. “The world now refers to old-bloodline magical users as witches. Mages, druids, and sorcerers are all lumped under the umbrella of ‘witch.’ They’ve always had magic in their veins, dormant or not. When the White Witch’s Q-bomb tore the dimensional rift open, old magic flooded into the mortal realm. While it boosted the old bloodlines, it also chose new hosts—less than one percent of the human population. They’re the new money.”
I scanned the faces around me. Some were listening. Some were judging. I kept going.
“The old money consider themselves purebloods: the Chosen. They named the new magic users the Scourged. But the new money call themselves the Forged. Purebloods mostly serve in the Pallid Court, while the Forged are spread across the other three kingdoms.” I paused. “The third kind—the ones who caught the residual dark magic from the Q-bomb and couldn’t handle it—turned feral. The mutants. Cannibals are one of their branches.”
I swallowed against the image of Rogue being torn apart by those things. It never faded.
The yard was quiet. Several cadets who’d been whispering had stopped. Delia’s smirk had thinned. A cadet near the back—a broad-shouldered earth shaper, judging from the dirt residue on his hands—gave me a slow, surprised nod.
Instructor Greer’s approval was subtle—a slight lift of her chin, a softening around her eyes. “We have both old money and new money in the Zodiac Covenant.” She gestured at the cadets gathered around. “All of us are in here together, fighting for the same cause: everyone has the right to be born free.”
My throat tightened. I’d make sure Missy would beset free. And if it was the last thing I did, I’d free every miner, every slave still buried in the dark.
“Discrimination won’t be tolerated in my class or on this base,” Instructor Greer continued, her gaze sweeping the group before settling on me. “Every student here has an established magical discipline. We have fire mages, water channelers, kinetic casters, wind callers, earth shapers, spellweavers, and shadow binders.” She tilted her head. “What is your magic, Cadet Max?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Delia’s group sneered with the smug satisfaction of people who’d been waiting for this moment. Then a darker thought hit me. Some of Delia’s friends might’ve slept with Caspian. Others might belong to Nikolai’s circle of regular donors. The vampire prince had promised to stop handing out orgasms as long as he could drink from me. If any of them had figured out why their arrangement ended, I’d handed them a motive for hatred that went deeper than jealousy.
“The pretender doesn’t have a flicker of magic.” Delia pointed at me with one lacquered nail. “Send her away instead of wasting the entire class’s time.”
“You can make that call when you become an instructor,” Greer said. “In a decade, give or take.” She turned to the class, her voice carrying the weight of someone who’d had this argument before and won every time. “Max is here because she has magic—probably stronger than all of you combined. Her presence carries a power signature that only a very strong supernatural can sense, which is precisely why all four heirs placed herhere with their personal signatures. This class will help Cadet Max Morning realize her potential, the same way it’s done for every one of you.”
The room shifted. Delia’s circle stared at me with hatred and jealousy so blended I couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. But a handful of cadets looked at me differently—with curiosity, even a trace of reverence, though I knew that reverence was borrowed from the heirs.
“The princes have never gotten involved in a cadet’s training before,” a girl near the back whispered.
My heart skipped. So this wasn’t Drakken trying to humiliate me or ship me out. All four heirs had signed off. They wanted me here.
What did they see in me that I couldn’t?
Instructor Greer pairedthe students for drills: fire mages against kinetic casters, spellweavers running defensive patterns. Then she turned to me.
We stood in the chalk circle at the yard’s center. She had me extend my hands, palms up. Close my eyes. Reach for the magic inside.
Nothing stirred.
Kinetic exercises next—pushing air, pulling objects. I couldn’t shift a pebble. Guided visualization after that: build the image, feel the channel, release. I built. Felt nothing. Released zilch.
